


Catch

by Humansunshine



Series: Luke Month 2019 [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dad Luke Garroway, Kid Fic, Luke Month 2019, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 12:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18620524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humansunshine/pseuds/Humansunshine
Summary: “I want to try out for the football team,” Simon announced the moment he got into Luke’s car.





	Catch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lgbtbioquake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lgbtbioquake/gifts).



> Prompted by @sapphicbioquake on twitter - "oooooo a little pre-series drabble about luke being a Dad to simon and clary"
> 
> Clary's a tiny little feminist, who's surprised

“I want to try out for the football team,” Simon announced the moment he got into Luke’s car one Friday, shuffling along the back seat. 

Luke looked to Clary for some kind of explanation, because Simon had never, not once, expressed interest in any sport aside from Quidditch. She huffed, shoving her backpack down by her feet. Just turned 12, she was having a funny few months. She’d realised from the other kids at school that it wasn’t cool to love your Mom and Dad, so she’d been trying her best to not be nice to he and Jocelyn. 

“He thinks it’ll stop him getting shoved into lockers.” She shrugged, putting her feet on the dashboard and looking hard at Luke like she was daring him to tell her off. 

“If I join the football team then I’ll be friends with the jocks, and then the jocks won’t pick on me,” Simon explained, “it makes perfect sense.” 

“Except that you can’t catch a ball,” Clary reminded him.

“Well, that’s what Luke’s for.” 

Luke grimaced as he started the car. “Honestly, kid, I never played football as a kid.”

Simon pushed his glasses up his nose, leaning forward. “How hard can it be?” 

With Luke’s wolf reflexes, easy, he thought, but he couldn’t exactly let the kids see his superhuman abilities. He almost said no, but Simon had been having a really hard time, with his Mom going through AA and the bullying in school. “Alright, kid, we’ll drop Clary off and then go play some catch.”

Clary turned in her seat, her face dark. “What, because I’m a girl I’m not allowed to play catch too?!” 

“No!” Luke insisted, “no, kiddo, I just didn’t think you’d want to-”

“Well I do.” 

“Okay, okay, no worries, it’s no big deal.” Luke assured her, “you can come too.”

Clary was seriously starting to get a little scary. If she was like this at 12, he dreaded to think what she was going to be like when she really hit the teen years. 

“Honestly,” Clary slumped down in her seat, glaring out the window, “it’s like you’ve never even heard of feminism.” 

Luke pressed his lips together really hard to keep from laughing. “Shame on me,” he shook his head, “excuse my misogynistic assumptions.” 

Clary side-eyed him, and he smiled at her. She huffed, but he could tell she was trying to hold back a giggle. Luke would take it. 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Simon was terrible at both throwing and catching a football. Even less surprisingly, Clary took over the lesson as soon as she realised that she was pretty good at throwing and catching. Luke didn’t mind; he left the two of them to it and sat on a bench to watch, laughing softly to himself as he watched Clary boss Simon around, Simon running around after her like he was hanging onto her every word.

It was nice to see the two of them goofing off. Simon had been vibrating with anxiety damn near constantly since his Dad had died the summer before, and Clary had started to grow out of the irrepressible joy she’d had as a little girl. More and more often now she was angry at something that she couldn’t even name; picking fights with Luke and her Mom, flexing her sass muscles ready for the storm that was sure to come soon. 

Luke hoped that it was just teenage angst. The thought that she may have inherited her father’s temper, his darkness, was downright terrifying to Luke. Valentine had been dead for ten years now, but every now and then his spirit appeared in the brooding glares that appeared on Clary’s face. Luke just wanted to cling onto the sweet little girl he'd helped raise for a little longer, the Clary who had handmade him birthday cards every year, ever since she was old enough to fingerpaint, every one of them covered in love hearts and signed ‘lots of love, Clary (your kiddo)’.

This year it had just said ‘love, Clary’, and while Luke tried not to read too much into such a tiny thing, it was just another reminder that she was growing up. Every day was a day closer to the day where he and Jocelyn would have to tell her the truth. Where Clary would be ripped away from the mundane world into a world of corruption and iron expectations. 

“What’s that face for?” Clary asked breathlessly, skidding to a halt next to the bench to dig in her backpack for a bottle of water. 

“Hmm? Nothing, kiddo, just thinking.” Luke answered.

“You looked sad.” She said, tilting her head to the side. 

Luke glanced up and saw Simon throwing the football up into the air as high as he could and missing the catch by ten foot. He looked back at Clary, at the curiosity in her face. “Just thinking about when you were a little girl and you used to love me.” He answered teasingly.

“I still love you,” Clary grumbled, kicking the leg of the bench. “Never said I didn’t.”

“I know, kiddo. I’m just pulling your leg.” Luke assured her. 

Clary sat next to him on the bench, and for a moment both of them watched Simon stumble around the field trying to catch the football as it sailed high into the air. They both laughed as it hit him square in the face, and his cry of pain echoed in the empty field. 

“He’s never gonna make the football team.” Clary sighed. “Guess I’m gonna have to beat up those jocks.”

Luke snorted.

**Author's Note:**

> Taking Luke-centric prompts all through April. Comment below or tweet me @harryshumsbitch


End file.
